Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1887-01-22
BFiI.hi) iilG COUNTER.

Garry Wallingford, with curious
thrill through her, as if an ice cold
stream were trucking down the line
of her spinal column. oh, wish /
were . rich girl, and didn't have to
work p
Work is honorable, my child,
said olds Uncle Wolsey, who, with
his spectacles on his nose was try
ing TO spell through the illegable
paragraphs of the daily paper, NUT
tering to himself that "either they
didn't print as good as they used to,
or..else his old..eyesight was failing,
Yes, | know. auttered Cory !;
'but--but I'm very willing that some
one else should have the honor this
time.'
Uncle Wolsey turned his glasses
with mild reproach upon his neiee's
pink.and-white balsam of face.
Il wish / could be as brave as you,
Uncle Wolseyp said Carry, as she
tied the crimson strings of her little
capote under her round chin.
Old Wolsey,. Wallingford had shell
tered his little pet lamb by his
hearth-fold all her lifetime until
now. He was a jeweler by trade,
and he had kept his unprctending
store open as long as possible. But
the tide of fashion went by, and left
him stranded on the unfrequented
side street, where the sign of the
furnished silver watch attracted no
further attention.
And one day, when he had set all
| day in the window with his magnify
ing glass, working at some. impossi-
BILE old time-piece, whose owner had
| died and never called for it, the twi-
light crept darkly over his eyesight
and his heart. He laid down his
| tools.
'All day long, said he, and never
customer! Well-a-day: it is time
for the old man to shut up his store
at last
He went ont and put up the wood
en- shutters, with heart that was
heavier than they, and from that
time thence-forward the wooden imi-
tation Of the silver watch swung no
longer over the door.
Uncle Wolsey had been conquer
ed in life's battle, and had laid down
his arms, and now it was that Garry
reluctantly threw herself into the
breach.
How could she let the dear old
man starve? And Mr.. Pickrell's
fancy and dry goods store on Sixth
avenue was really very creditable
establishment, and Mrs. Pickrell her.
self had promised, from the severe
heights of the cashiers desk, to
keep an eye upon old Mr.. Walling-
ferd's niece, and if her services
proved desirable, there was no sort
of doubt but that her salary would
be increased in time.
So Garry buttoned up her sack,
| drew on her neat lisle-thread gloves
and took the little basket, in which,
wrapped in napkin, was packed
her lunch of apple pie and cheese,
and went forth to meet her
| new career, little reckoning how
brief it was to be.
| At first it was not very pleasant.
The store was small and stuffy, with
gorgeous piles ofcretonne and chintz
at the door, and festoons of laces,
| silk handkerchief and colored jer-
seys tapping against the heads ofthe
girls behind the counter, Of whom
there were three besides Carry
bold, high-voiced damsels, who wore
their hair down over the bridge Of
| their of their noses and giggled in
cessantly.
Customers came and went, change
was made and paper parcels exped-
itiously wrapped up.
Mr.. Pickrell walked the floor with
his hands In his nnok ats orIarad